


declare this an emergency (this is the end of the world)

by SVZ



Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-25
Updated: 2011-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-15 22:43:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SVZ/pseuds/SVZ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which asbestos is responsible for New Directions and the Warblers teaming up. Complete!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. it hit him like a train on a track

**Author's Note:**

> I joked [ New Directions and the Warblers should just team up](http://community.livejournal.com/kurt_blaine/831787.html?thread=43699499#t43699499) (because Westerville and Lima are apparently a five minute drive from each other in the Glee universe). The next thing I knew, I was writing this. Honestly, I simply wanted to write a fic where everyone were just bros. Title stolen from Muse's "Apocalypse Please".

Dalton Academy is a beautiful school with a lovely campus, a rich history of producing some of the best minds of the country, and a stellar reputation as prestigious school for young men. In 2009, Dalton was ranked as third best private preparatory boarding school in the Midwest. Historically-speaking, Dalton has a tradition for sending many of its students to elite East Coast universities. Even today, it continues to send many of its graduates to some of the country’s best colleges and universities.

Unfortunately, Dalton today also has its own fair share of problems. Many of them are quite common to private schools across the nation such as lower enrollment and a worrisome decline in donations from family and alumnae, but namely, its major problem is asbestos.

Dalton has the worst possible case of asbestos reported in an educational institution in history. Courtesy of WikiLeaks.

As it turns out, to say that Dalton parents tend not to take news like the fact they’re paying $25,000 a year for their sons to be educated in an unsafe toxicant-filled environment (where they are quite liable to develop medical issues) very well would be an understatement.

They don’t take the news well at all.

And that is why Dalton Academy closed down after losing most of its formerly generous endowment with out-of-court settlement cases with the families of the students.

An overwhelming number of the local students transfer to McKinley High School out of convenience; a temporary situation until their parents can figure out a better alternative, but it’s not like Ohio has a lot of options on the education front. The fact that McKinley High is their best option speaks volumes.

Kurt is convinced that this is going to be an utter shitshow and he has front-row seats.

-

Standing at the far end of the McKinley High parking lot, Kurt watches as the early arrival students start filing into the school building. He clutches his drink from Lima Bean like it’s a lifeline.

It’s not even that cold; the weather being freakishly warm for winter (thank you global warming), but the warmth of his grande non-fat mocha is comforting since he’s not exactly thrilled about being back.

Not even the freedom of being able to wear his own clothes again is making him feel better. Although it is nice to be able to wear his favorite pair of Docs, black skinny jeans, a striped black and grey henley, and his favorite McQueen scarf again.

Kurt figures that he might as well keep it simple - maybe if he does, it would make the transition back easier, he won’t stick out as much. Maybe Karofsky won’t see him with all the new transfers –

“Hey,” a familiar voice from behind says warmly. Kurt doesn’t even have to turn around to know who just gently nudged him in the side with an elbow. “So, this is it.”

Blaine’s clutching his own coffee – medium drip, his usual – and is smiling so disarmingly that Kurt isn’t quite sure how tell Blaine that he has no idea what he just signed up for by transferring to McKinley.

Or how to tell Blaine that if he continues to dress like a model from the J.Crew catalog; he’s essentially making himself a walking a target for slushie facials. His outfit screams ‘Hello, I am the very model of a high school prep boy who is entirely out of his element.’

Blaine is wearing an honest-to-god polo shirt with khakis.

Maybe it’s a little mean of him, but Kurt is starting to understand why Blaine had been bullied at his old school; he suspects that Blaine will get slushied before he even makes it to homeroom.

Thankfully, Mercedes pulls up into the parking spot next to his Navigator.

She’s the one who brings it up. She eyes Blaine’s outfit and immediately shakes her head. “Oh, hell no.” She makes a general gesture, up and down, at Blaine’s body, and shakes her head again for extra emphasis.

Kurt has to muffle a giggle.

God, he has missed her.

“I don’t understand.” Blaine’s eyebrows are pulled together into a quizzical frown. “Is there something wrong with my clothes?” He cranes his neck backwards, as though checking to see if there’s a ‘Kick me’ sign taped to his back or the designer tag sticking out.

The sight is actually kind of endearing.

“Everything’s wrong with it.” Mercedes frowns at him. “Please tell me you brought a change of clothes – Kurt did tell you about our slushie tradition, right?”

“I have a t-shirt and a pair of jeans in my backpack,” Blaine replies slowly, still looking mildly bewildered. “I don’t think I understand. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Kurt decides to cut to the chase: “You need to re-evaluate your sartorial choices,” he informs him, gesturing at the collar of Blaine’s red polo. “You look like you should be golfing in a country club somewhere. Also, the popped collar kind of makes you look like a douche.” He adds that last part semi-apologetically.

All in all, Kurt supposes Blaine takes his advice rather well; he unpops the collar, zips up his generic-looking red hoodie. While he still appears to be incredibly confused, he doesn’t appear to be too offended by the douche comment.

Kurt’s about to say something – he doesn’t quite know what, but something reassuring and mentor-like (turn-around fair play, Blaine’s on Kurt’s territory now) like “don’t worry” or “just follow my lead” when besides him, Mercedes sucks in a breath and actually groans.

“Good Lord, Kurt.”

When he turns, Mercedes jerks her thumb in the direction of a handful of cars that had just pulled into the nearby parking spaces. Dalton students and Warblers alike are emerging from their vehicles and Kurt swears that his heart stopped for a moment, but not in a good ‘Gorgeous boy is singing a song about eloping and skintight jeans at me in the senior commons' way.

“Actually, you’re fine,” Kurt tells Blaine, choking a little on his words. “You are totally, totally fine. You don’t even need the sweatshirt.”

Jeff’s blond hair makes him easy to spot in any crowd, but the Warbler is also wearing a truly atrocious blue argyle sweater and faded denims and Kurt thinks that with the sunlight reflecting off Jeff’s bright hair and all, he might be going blind.

Thad steps out from the passenger seat and he’s wearing a black sunglasses, black leather jacket a size too small, acid-washed jeans with a basket-ball sized hole at one of the knees, and the fugliest pair of brown western boots that Kurt has even seen.

Some of the other guys are dressed just as badly; a number of them appeared to have just shrugged on their Dalton uniform this morning. Not the blazers or grey trousers, thankfully, but the red sweater-vests.

Oh dear god, the sweater-vests.

Kurt is simultaneously impressed and horrified to see that Wes somehow managed to acquire a blazer that looks like a replica of their usual school uniform jacket. The only thing that appears to be missing is the Dalton insignia.

For a moment, Kurt entertains the mental image of Wes painstakingly removing the Dalton coat of arms from the blazer by hand by candlelight. With needle and thread or a stapler remover or something.

Kurt takes it all in; the sight of all the horrifically dressed Dalton boys (well, horrifically dressed Dalton boys plus David and present company excluded) and their nice cars in the parking lot as they all head toward the school in droves.

A few of them wave at him, a gesture he returns, almost without thinking.

“Well, this is going to be an interesting day,” Kurt decides, already feeling like the rest of the day will be as ominous as this exact moment. He offers Mercedes his untouched coffee (who accepts gratefully) and gestures for Blaine to follow him to the main office – “Come on, I can show you where your locker is.”

-

During third period Trigonometry, their math teacher doesn't even bother to ask the Dalton transfers to identify themselves. Their slushie-stained clothing and traumatized expressions made it quite obvious.

(It also helped that all of them decided to sit in the front row.)

"Welcome to McKinley High gentlemen," Mr. Grabowski greets them, not unkindly. He looks genuinely puzzled."I'm not sure if you were aware, but we actually do not have much of a dress code here."

Kurt is trying really hard not to laugh because he's not a completely terrible person. But it's still very, very difficult.

Especially since it seems like all the guys had subconsciously chosen to wear Dalton colors.

He tries to think of sad things: dead puppies, world poverty, the collective wardrobe of everyone on Jersey Shore. Beside him, Blaine mutters, "Wow, remind me to never wear a sweater-vest. That's like a walking bulls-eye."

"Out of curiosity, do you have anything in your wardrobe that's not white, navy blue, or red?" Blaine hesitates for a moment, but that's all the confirmation Kurt needs. "After glee rehearsal today, I'm taking you clothes shopping. You won't stand a chance if you keep wearing your school colors."

"I don't think that's really necessary - "

"Trust me," Kurt interrupts, shaking his head. "Bring your credit card." Then he nudges Blaine and tells him to pay attention to the white board.

-

"Porcelain!"

From beside him, Mercedes stills and even Blaine halts, although he looks adorably confused as to what's going on.

Kurt wishes he had the foresight to warn Blaine about Sue Sylvester. Unfortunately, neither Coach Sylvester or his stint on the Cheerios had been easy topics to bring up in conversation back at Dalton.

He has to will himself to not appear completely terrified when he turns around. "Yes, Coach?"

She looks him up and down, then after a moment, nods approvingly. "Excellent. You're back on the Cheerios. If Karofsky gives you any trouble, let me know. I've been trained by the KGB and I've been blackmailing Figgins to let me use my training on students for _months_." She takes one look at Blaine, jerks her thumb at Blaine's person, and informs Kurt, "Keep your eye on this one, Porcelain. His hair is so wild that I would not be surprised if it was filled with secrets. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised if he's the one who caused the asbestos problem at your school from the ungodly amount of American Crew products he uses."

And with that, Coach Sylvester marches off to interrogate a non-Cheerio for drinking a protein shake that looks suspiciously like the one from her top secret recipe book.

"You're back on the Cheerios?" Mercedes doesn't even bother to hide her disbelief.

"I guess I am." Kurt swallows; trying to remember how to breathe normally."I suppose this means I can stop attending my bi-weekly Bikram yoga class. I'll be getting a full body work out every day."

"Did she just compare my hair to Gretchen Weiners'?" Blaine asks; his voice going high and maybe vaguely hysterical/incredulous at the name of the Mean Girls character. "And did she just imply that my hair is solely responsible for the asbestos problem at Dalton?"

"You'll get used to it," Mercedes tells him reassuringly. "And you have to admit, the asbestos thing is straight out of something from Buffy. I actually don't blame Ms. Sylvester for being a little suspicious."

Blaine does not look reassured. At all. He actually looks like he's stuck between informing them that their high school is crazy and protesting that Coach Sylvester had said made no sense whatsoever.

Kurt takes that as a cue to gently tug him to the general direction of the cafeteria. "Lunch. If you close your eyes and pretend that you're in a post-apocalyptic setting where food is scarce, the food is almost edible. The salad options are okay."

"It's Chicken Tenders Day," Mercedes adds, beaming. Kurt glares at her - knowing she's only saying that to get a rise out of him, but Blaine immediately brightens at the news.

" _Awesome_ , I love chicken tenders," Blaine says cheerfully, completely oblivious to the way he's making Kurt die a little inside. "Hey, maybe if I eat enough of them I can actually justify buying brand new wardrobe after school. And Kurt, why didn't you tell me you were a cheerleader?"

Ah, Kurt had hoped Blaine had missed that, but then Blaine continues admiringly, "That's impressive."

Mercedes shoots him a look behind Blaine's back that manages to express, quite clearly, 'Seriously, what on earth is keeping you two boys from dating? You two are so perfect for each other; it's creeping me out.'

Kurt rolls his eyes and returns her look, 'Sweetheart, you're preaching to the choir.'

They hook arms, double-checked to make sure the coast is clear (Artie's text: _dude puckheads bsy stringing jacob up the flagpole_ ), and head towards the lunch-room.

It takes them a better part of their forty minute lunch period, but Kurt and Mercedes (with interjections and anecdotes from Tina, Mike, Rachel, Finn, Artie, Brittany - and okay almost all of New Directions that they managed to squeeze into a too-small lunch table) manage to fill Blaine in on Coach Sylvester.

"She's _insane_ ," Blaine says, looking appropriately horrified after Quinn finishes her story. It's something about how Coach Sylvester wanting to shoot Brittany out of a cannon ("Yes Blaine, we're well aware of that," Kurt replies dryly)."She's absolutely insane and a terrible teacher. Kurt," Blaine turns to him, "Why does she like you so much?"

"Because I gave her a make-over."

" _Really?_ "

"Yes, she was Madonna and looked fantastic. Oh, and I helped her win Nationals last year. Now with her top Cheerios gone," Kurt studiously avoids making eye contact with Quinn or Brittany. He might be a bitch sometimes, but he's not stupid - he's not about wish himself a death sentence. From prior experience, ex-Cheerios have been known to be very sensitive about getting kicked off the squad so he's not taking any risks. "I suspect she's plotting something. I have no idea what since the Cheerios are out of running for Nationals this year."

"Maybe she wants to keep a closer eye on you," Tina suggests. "She took it personally that the school board over-turned Karofsky's expulsion. She even ranted about it on Sue's Corner a few times."

From a table in front of them, Kurt spots Thad sadly poking at the mystery meat with a plastic spork. "Would it be terribly uncool for me to start brown bagging my lunch?"

David looks sympathetic; but shakes his head no over his limp salad. "I don't think that you would even make it to home-room before getting No.7 red dye all over your clothes."

Thad stares at his tray, looking almost offended. "I am most certain that my mashed potatoes just winked at me."

"That's rough, buddy," David says, stabbing a piece of yellowing lettuce with his plastic utensils.

 

-

 

Kurt knew that glee would be interesting when he walks into rehearsal and the first thing he sees Santana is cornering Dan, Andrew, and Jeff with a predatory expression.

From the looks of things; it seems like she's propositioning one (or all of them).

Per usual, everyone's off doing their own thing before Mr. Schue arrives. Unsurprisingly, most of the Warblers are terribly unsettled by the organized chaos. And the presence of girls.

Mike and Tina are laughing in the corner, heads bent over Tina's phone. Quinn and Mercedes appear to be in deep conversation over The Vampire Diaries (when she spots him, Mercedes waves and points to the empty seat next to her that she specially reserved just for him; Kurt feels his heart swell a little at that). They keep eyeing all the Warblers with amused, mildly tolerant expressions.

Finn and Rachel are all wrapped up in each other in the front row, being adorable, and Kurt can honestly say that he's relieved that they've gotten back together. It makes the two of them so much more bearable when they're not complaining to him about each other. Bizarrely enough, Blaine's willingly sitting next to Rachel and he shows no sign of wanting to projectile vomit from the overload of PDA.

While most of the Warblers are standing around looking awkward (there aren't enough chairs for everyone and some of them act they expected there to be assigned seats or something), Kurt spots Wes sitting a couple seats over from Rachel. He keeps alternating between shooting curious looks at Santana's back and checking the clock on the wall with a puzzled sort of grimace.

Right. Kurt has almost forgotten how Mr. Schue and New Direction rehearsals often run late.

Kurt heaves a sigh, clutches the strap of his Marc Jacobs satchel, and makes his way over to the back. Mercedes flashes him a smile and puts a comforting arm around his shoulder when he sits down. "Managed to ditch the Secret Service?"

"Please don't remind me." When they found out that he's transferring back; Puck, Sam, and Artie became dead set on being his bodyguards so Kurt wouldn't have any unexpected run-ins with Karofsky. They immediately implemented a buddy system: someone from New Directions had to be with Kurt at all times.

And while Kurt's quietly touched and awed that they had his back, to say it made trips to the men's room awkward would be an understatement. "I made a run for it when Sam, Puck, and Artie got into an argument about video games outside the chemistry lab."

"They mean well," Quinn supplies helpfully, brushing a piece of wavy hair behind her ear.

Kurt's about to interrogate her on her preferred brand of hairspray but Mr. Schue arrives, holding a stack of sheet music. He has Puck, Artie, and Sam in tow. The guys have extra metal folding chairs.

"Hey guys," Mr. Schue beams, smiling at all of them. The noise level in the room drops slightly as people scramble for seats. "We have a lot of new faces here today joining New Directions. Since we already know you guys can sing, I think that having auditions would be a bit redundant. Instead, I think today we're going to focus on narrowing down our selections for Regionals. I just found an _amazing_ Journey song that I'm sure - uh, yes, you are...?"

Wes drops his hand. "Wes, sir. Wesley Lee."

Santana raises an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, your parents actually named you _Wesley Lee_?"

"Yes, and I can assure you that I have heard every variation of any joke you might make," Wes replies coolly, sounding slightly bitter ("Wow, _touchy_ ," Santana mutters from her seat, although that doesn't stop her from looking him up and down). "I'm sorry Mr. Schuester, but did I hear you correctly? Did you say _narrowing_ down selections for Regionals? Does this mean New Directions doesn't have a set list?" He manages look both concerned and unimpressed by the news.

"Well, yes," Mr. Schue says, nodding. "We haven't really decided on anything just yet. Nothing's been set in stone."

"But Regionals is in a month!" Thad protests, outraged. "There's honestly no set list? None, whatsoever?"

"Just because we operate things differently," Rachel begins, voice sharp and very defensive over the low murmurings from the Warblers.

"This is absolute lunacy, how can we be adequately prepared when we don't know what we're sing - "

"Hey," Finn breaks in, frowning. "We managed to _tie_ with you guys and we only finalized our song selections and half the choreography the Wednesday before!"

" _What?_ " exclaimed at least half a dozen male voices.

"That's impossible. You must be joking - "

"We were finalizing the choreography up until the green room," Mike offers helpfully. "The backflip-throw was actually a last minute addition. Brittany and I only had the chance to practice it once before going on stage."

As he watches the chaos that unfolds in front of him, Kurt is certain that the emotion that he's feeling can be categorized as 'verklempt'. He leans back into his uncomfortable chair.

"You look so pleased right now," Mercedes comments dryly. "Care to share with the class, Kurt?"

"Nothing," Kurt snickers. At Quinn and Mercedes' doubtful look, he shakes his head. "Honest. Just - this - " he waves his arm to gesture at the scene before him, Rachel and Wes, head to head, yelling about the other's complete lack of professionalism, experience, and leadership skills as David and Finn trying to run interference between the two while Mr. Schue supervises. "This has been what I've been dealing with when I was at Dalton," he finishes, hoping they would understand.

His two crazy worlds are finally colliding and the trainwreck is glorious.

-

Kurt's just finished with his nightly moisturizing routine when he hears several loud raps on the door. "Come in!" he calls over his shoulder, while putting away his various lotions.

Finn is standing awkwardly at the door. "Hey," he says, smiling a little. "Just wanted to see if you're doing okay - with the transfer and all. It was kind of sudden."

"Today was fine," Kurt reassures him. "Puck and Sam made sure Karofsky and none of the puckheads or football players got anywhere near me."

Finn nods. "Good, I mean. That's great. Karofsky has been - no, he's still a jerk, but he's been pretty quiet since the championship game. I don't think he'll be giving you a lot of trouble, but let me know if he does."

"Okay." Kurt waits a few moments, but when Finn shows no sign of leaving, he sighs. He motions Finn to shut the door and take a seat at his desk. "So. What's on your mind?"

"It's - " Finn seems to be struggling to find the right words. "It's good to have you back. It sucks that your school got asientos - "

"Asbestos, Finn. Asbestos."

"Right, that. It sucks that it happened - even though it meant that we got all the tuition money back and our parents can go on a great honeymoon. But I think that although today's practice didn't go too well, that doesn't mean that everything won't turn out all right at Regionals. If you're worried about that."

"Trust me," Kurt snorts. "I can reassure you that I'm not at all worried about our chances at Regionals. With the Warbler's great vocal harmonies and New Direction's continually inventive choreography, Aural Intensity won't know what hit them. Even if Coach Sylvester's trying to sabotage us. I'm also sure that Blaine can keep everyone in check - he managed to keep Wes and Rachel from killing each other today which was a miracle by itself." He looks at Finn critically and frowns at Finn's thoughtful expression. "This... isn't about Regionals either, is it?"

"No," Finn takes a deep breath. "It's actually about Blaine. You like him a lot, huh?" He's looking at Kurt, _really_ looking at him without any judgment, but with concern.

"Finn," Kurt sighs, taking a seat on his bed. He smiles wryly and plays with a loose thread of his red comforter. Then he confesses, with a touch of sarcasm:"My feelings for Blaine are so strong that I would unironically sing a Bruno Mars song to him."

When he looks up, he sees that Finn's wearing an expression that's half-sympathetic, half-confused, and maybe even a little hurt. "Relax, I thought that the song at the wedding was a very kind gesture. I appreciated the sentiment, even if the lyrics were oddly inappropriate for the situation."

"It's a great song!"

"You didn't change the pronouns," Kurt points out, wrinkling his nose and then face-planting into his pillow. "Ugh. Blaine never changes the pronouns or gender when he sings either. He says it ruins the integrity of the song or something. It's stupid. A little endearing - but stupid."

"Right," Finn says slowly. Kurt has a feeling Finn's probably giving him his best 'we're brothers now, so we can talk about stuff like this because I'm not actually an asshole' look. He doesn't bother to check. "Well, I'm sorry you're having guy problems? Uh, is there anything I can do? Would a glass of warm milk help?"

Without lifting his head, Kurt waves a hand. "It's fine. Thanks for caring, I don't mean to be melodramatic or anything - it's just, _hard_. You know, my two worlds colliding and exploding in a fiery mess. Warblers and New Directions teaming up. Karofsky. All the gay jokes from Santana. Finding out that your love interest cannot dress himself. And not only that, he has acquired himself a fag hag in the form of one Rachel Berry even though they once had a drunken make-out session that led to him questioning his own sexuality that resulted in our first actual fight."

"Plus he crashed in your bed that one time when he was really wasted," Finn agrees. "Burt wasn't too happy about that."

Kurt stifles a groan at the memory. "Finn, I appreciate your attempt to 'bond' with me and all, but please get out of my room so I can sulk in peace. Blaine's my best friend. He's also unsure about his feelings towards me.I'm dealing with it as best as I can right now."

When the door shuts quietly, Kurt hears low buzzing and he gropes for his schoolbag at the side of his bed.

He's not surprised to see a new text from Blaine when he fishes out his phone.

 **Blaine (9:58):** After I told them about my new clothes, some of the other guys wanted to know if you were willing to be their fashion guru as well. This weekend, the mall? What do you say? 

Kurt doesn't even think before replying that he's game (only with the condition that Blaine's also chaperoning the excursion). But the guys need to bring their credit cards and are responsible for providing their very own transportation.

The things he does for this boy. Honestly.


	2. there's no turning back

Kurt has endured Sue Sylvester’s crazy practices and even more insane Cheerios diet, he spent two weeks keeping vigil over his comatose dad at the hospital (two weeks of very little sleep), and he has survived midterms at Dalton, but never before has he ever been this exhausted in his life.

He supposes that’s what he gets when he willingly agrees to dress forty-five straight, sartorially challenged high school boys in one afternoon.

(It _had_ been a rather ambitious of him, but like he had said countless times before: makeovers were like crack to him. There was something so therapeutic about going through sad-looking wardrobes and separating the unwearable from the wearable – and supplementing the rest courtesy of the Columbus Shopping Center and a maxed out credit card.)

But mostly, he blames most of his exhaustion on Wesley Lee, because most of the other guys had been quite content to purchase whatever Kurt picked out for them. Wes, on the other hand, took it upon himself to debate the merits of each item of clothing Kurt chose, which was _really_ rich because Wes’s wardrobe is so distressing that it makes Kurt want to claw his eyes out with kitchen cutlery on a daily basis.

Wes has the worst dress sense; unparalleled to anyone Kurt has ever met, which is quite impressive considering how he has been going to school with Rachel Berry his entire life.

But seriously, it’s terrible. So terrible, he had originally thought Wes had been making some sort of ironic statement at McKinley by sporting his Dalton insignia-less blazers. However that theory was quickly tossed aside because:

a) Wes was many things, but he was also the antithesis of what most people would call "a hipster".  
b) It didn’t even _begin_ to explain Wes’ affinity for wearing Easter pastel-colored dress-shirts paired with atrocious argyle-patterned sweater-vests in Dalton colors.  
c) Seriously. Robin blue striped dress shirt. Kelly green and mustard yellow argyle sweater-vest. Kurt had nearly walked into the school flagpole when Wes got out of his car Thursday morning.

It’s not until he asks Wes, “Tell me, does your mother still buy clothes for you?” (and Wes’s puzzled but affirmative response) did Kurt start to understand how Wesley Lee came to own such a heinous wardrobe.

It also makes him wonder if Wes (or his mother) is color-blind.

“Did you manage to get him to part with the jacket?” Blaine asked him, after the mall extravaganza, when the two of them reconvene at Lima Bean for some much needed caffeinated beverages. “I think he got slushied _twice_ for that on Thursday."

"Yes, but barely."

"Good," Blaine says approvingly. "Because I've been telling him not to wear them on dates. They kind of make him look like a tool."

Personally, Kurt thinks that Blaine is acting far too self-righteous for a guy who wore polo shirts and khakis on his first day of public school, but he lets that slide. And before Kurt could even attempt to get up from his chair, Blaine rolls his eyes and makes a “don’t bother” motion before going off to order and pay for coffee and muffins for them both.

“This probably full of empty calories and I don’t even care,” Kurt sighs happily, over his non-fat peppermint mocha and blueberry muffins.

Blaine raises his eyebrows. “It’s just a muffin. Seriously, you’ve probably burned enough calories just by running around, herding all the guys from Macy’s to Nordstrom and back.”

“Muffins,” Kurt says, quite loftily, “were invented so we as a people would feel less guilty about eating cupcakes for breakfast.” He ruins his point by picking apart his muffin, but adds, “Coach Sylvester told me last year that my hips were pear-shaped. But she hasn’t said a word this year. So I’m taking it as a good thing.”

Growth spurts, Kurt had decided quite a while ago, were _fantastic things_ even if they meant that he had to keep getting his clothes altered at the tailor’s.

“Right,” Blaine agrees, looking at him funny. “I’m certain that makes perfect sense to some people.” Kurt decides to ignore him.

“When did I suddenly become queer eye for 45 guys?” Kurt wonders out loud.

Blaine coughs. “Because I happen to not perpetuate certain stereotypes?” At Kurt’s glare, Blaine gives him the rest of his enormous banana-walnut muffin as a peace offering.

\--  


 **Santana (9:34):** is wes gay or st8?  
 **Kurt (9:45):** straight, very straight  
 **Santana (9: 48):** then y do i keep thinking he’s gayer than a purse full of skittles?  
 **Kurt (9: 55):** Blaine says that Wes has six older sisters.  
 **Santana (10: 07):** damn that makes so much sense now  
 **Santana (10: 09):** wait blaine is with u rite now?  
 **Santana (10:10):** wanky wanky hummel

  
\--

 

Apparently attending a school with time-honored Dalton traditions and an Honor Code has made Wes anal beyond all belief.

It does, however, prove to be _very_ entertaining for the first few glee practices when he and Rachel continually butt heads over song selections for Regionals while Mr. Schue ineffectually stands off to the side, looking visibly distressed.

David had taken to transferring to McKinley rather well and spent most of the time consoling Thad who had _not_ been adjusting quite so easily. Every now and then, Thad would move his head off of David's shoulder and glare witheringly at the members of New Directions and mutter something about transferring to Carmel High. Almost everyone stopped paying attention to Thad after the third time he made that particular threat.

"Not that I particularly care, but is there any reason why Wes is surlier than usual?" Kurt asks, after watching Wes and Rachel argue about changing the name of New Directions. He's pretty sure that they're not going to be doing any singing for this rehearsal, which is fine by him. He's still worn out from the morning's Cheerios practice and is perfectly content resting his head on Mercedes' comfortable shoulder.

Apparently, Wes wants to change it to "The New Warblers" or "Warbling Directions" to better represent the merging of the two groups, and Rachel is having none of it. From the sounds of things, she had used the surplus of the Cheerios' budget to order New Directions sweatshirts for everyone and it would be too late to change the name.

"Wes," Blaine says, in a low whisper from Kurt's left, "just received a 'Dear John' text from his now ex-girlfriend because she's upset that he doesn't go to Dalton anymore. That is why he's been irritable all week. He tends to get worse when he's single."

"Oh my god, you're kidding me." Kurt sighs, rolling his eyes. "Well, he's not going to get any female attention if he continues to dress like a male version of Rachel Berry."

"I can try to convince him to put his new wardrobe to use?" Blaine offers.

"You do that," Kurt agrees. "I'm pretty sure that Rachel just likes arguing. That, or she's getting frustrated that her relationship with Finn is at a standstill and likes the weird, intense, sexual tension she gets when she and Wes argue."

"... I am going to pretend I didn't hear that," Mercedes says, amused.

"You have the most comfortable shoulder in the entire world. Blaine's shoulder is far too bony."

"Hey!"

Mr. Schue claps his hands, causing everyone to look up. "All _right_ guys," he says, laughing awkwardly. "I think it's a little too late to change the name of our group, we've already registered with 'New Directions'. Why don't we work on our assignment of the week? Choreography's going to be tricky since the guys outnumber the girls now, but I'm thinking we should spice things up with 'Sexy' as our theme - "

"Assignment of the week?" Kurt hears Trent mutter from a row behind. "Do you guys ever work on your actual competition numbers?"

"No," Tina replies, sounding resigned. "Well, not until the week of the competition anyway."

 

\--

 

For someone so tiny, Rachel has a surprisingly strong grip.

Kurt suffered through the hour-long rehearsal (watching the Warblers mess up choreography, stepping on each other's toes, and altogether making idiots of themselves in front of all the girls in the room). By the end of practice,he wants wanting nothing more than to go home and maybe squeeze in a quick nap before dinner but Rachel somehow coerces him into taking her to Lima Bean.

And then she proceeds to interrogate him about how he's adjusting to McKinley and if Karofsky's giving him any trouble.

It's like an eerie case of déjà vu.

"It's fine. All the guys have took it upon themselves to shadow me from class to class," Kurt tells her over his coffee. The caffeine means that he's not going to get his nap in, but at least Rachel had insisted on paying. "I think even Lauren is trying to help. I overheard her threatening to sucker-punch Azimio if he even looks at me wrong."

"Good!" Rachel nods approvingly. "I mean, not that I condone physical violence but I'm glad that no one's giving you any problems. I also applaud your efforts to help the Warblers integrate themselves to a public school setting. You're a team player."

"... I took them shopping."

"Precisely! I bet they have been receiving fewer slushie facials since they stopped wearing sweater-vests and khakis. I mean, if you're wearing a sweater-vest, you're kind of asking for it. I think the only reason why they don't slushie Artie everyday is because he's on the football team, he's in a wheelchair, and he's now dating Brittany."

Insensitive, completely tactless to say, yet entirely true.

"It's a shame," Rachel continues, oblivious to how offensive she's being, "That you haven't gotten to Wes yet. He's still wearing those blazers."

"Rachel," Kurt interrupts, sighing. "Why do I get the impression that you actually want to talk about something else? Not that I doubt your commitment to the Warblers Assimilation Motion, but what is this really about? As much as I loathe to admit it, but we're friends now. You can tell me."

It's like he said the magical word: all of the sudden, Rachel is telling him all about her relationship woes, completely disregarding the fact that:

a) Kurt had a crush on Finn. ( _Had_ being the operative keyword.)  
b) Last year, Kurt gave Rachel a terrible makeover over Finn.  
c) Finn is now _Kurt's stepbrother_. Shouldn't she be talking about this to Mercedes or someone - anyone - else?

"I think Finn is unhappy that our relationship isn't as physical as he would like."

"Why are you telling me this?" Kurt asks, pained. "I'm related to him. He's now my brother!"

"Not by blood though!" Rachel responds brightly, as though that makes all the difference. She determinedly ignores Kurt's reply ("We live in the same house, _we even share a bathroom!_ "). "I'm afraid that Finn is going to get tired of our relationship if I don't let him go... further."

"Wait, let me ask you this: didn't Jacob quote you on his blog last year? Something about girls wanting sex as much as guys?"

"Well, _yes_."

"And - oh my god, why am I even saying this - are you interested in Finn in _that way_? Physically?"

"I mean, _yes_ ," she concedes, "I do - "

"And you're not still emotionally scarred by Jesse St. James, are you?"

"Of course not. Finn is completely different and my feelings for him are much stronger. And it's not like I don't want to, but I think we should wait until we're completely ready such a big step. We're waiting for the right time," Rachel insists.

Kurt rolls his eyes. “For what, the End of Times? Armageddon?” he inquires pleasantly.

He doesn’t miss the thoughtful look that crosses Rachel’s expression before she (thankfully) abruptly changes the topic so he can stop feeling like he's her Fairy Godmother. Only gay.

That evening, Finn returns home from his movie date in considerably high spirits.

Kurt pretends not to notice; although Finn isn’t all that subtle with his impromptu ‘Yes, I got to THIRD BASE!’ victory dance/stomp up the stairs. Flaily fist-pumps were most definitely involved; Kurt is continually grateful that he and Finn are not related by blood.

Well, at least one of them is getting some action.

 

\--

 

Blaine made good on his promise to talk to Wes.

Santana’s been making eyes with Wes since his wardrobe transformation; hopeful ones alternating with mildly disgusted ones when she realizes exactly what she’s been doing. All and all, it is very amusing to watch her try to look uninterested when Wes takes Rachel’s bait (“I don’t think that you or any of the Warblers with the exception of Kurt can sing a Mika song – “ “ _Challenge. Accepted_.”) and his strong, clear tenor voice manages to snarl all the words of _Love Today_ in Rachel’s general direction.

“In case you’re wondering, yes, Wes has all his equipment,” Kurt informs Santana under his breath after Wes’ performance; everyone’s busy applauding and Rachel is attempting to mask her look of surprise. She still hasn't perfected the art of being gracious when she's proven wrong; but Kurt will concede that she's getting better about it. “He honestly _is_ straight; his girlfriend just broke up with him, and I’m pretty sure he’s only being this much of a hardass because he hasn’t gotten laid for weeks.”

“Perv,” Santana replies, without any heart, because Kurt already knows she’s thinking of the last part of his comment and mentally adding _I can fix that_ to it. “I bet you got an eyeful of his goods in the locker room at that Gay Hogwarts school of yours. It's like a gay school of dancing gays.”

"I'm not even going to respond to that."

"I guess he is, to quote your idol, hot like Mexico, rejoice," Santana murmurs thoughtfully. "Even if he is the most unconvincing heterosexual I have ever met."

After rehearsal, Santana manages to convince Wes to buy her dinner at Breadstix.

The next day, a visibly more relaxed Wes shows up at glee practice and doesn’t argue with Rachel once: instead, the two of them come to a sort of truce. Plus, they managed to convince Mr. Schue to _not_ choose a Journey song for Regionals. The two of them (and Thad) must have gotten together at some point because they presented Mr. Schue with a PowerPoint presentation (with bright, colorful charts) that depicted winning Nationals song selections - very few of them were of 80s power ballads.

In the end, Mr. Schue decides to the "new and improved" New Directions should vote on the song selections for Regionals instead of choosing random songs from his iPod on shuffle, which means that they are one step closer to actually finalizing the set list for Regionals.

Kurt counts it as a win; especially since there had been a priceless moment when Mr. Schue had meant to refer to Rachel and Finn as the group's "star singers". Half the new members had either looked at Quinn and Sam or Santana ("Flattering, but no," Santana drawls, "Try Shortstacks and Quarterback over there."), reminding everyone exactly how in the dark they were to New Directions' talents.

Rachel had taken the Warblers' skeptical expressions as a challenge and proceeded to blow them out of the water with an impressive impromptu rendition of Jesus Christ Superstar's "I Don't Know How to Love Him".

Blaine had whistled after her performance, "She sounds so much better than I remember."

Rolling his eyes, Kurt had reminded him: "That's because you were drunk the last and only time you heard her sing."

"Oh. Point taken."

And then Mercedes had decided to sing Adele's "Rolling in the Deep" and the Warblers spent the rest of practice picking their jaws up from where they dropped them on the floor.

 

\--

 

And then for a hot minute, they were going to do original songs for Regionals.

"The song I'm going to perform," Puck announces to the entire club, apropos nothing, "is titled 'Blue Balls'. It is dedicated to a _very_ special someone." And then he begins to sing, to the tune of the chorus of Billy Joel's "We Didn't Start the Fire":" _I've never been this celibate, it's driving me crazy - just like Lauren Zizes -_ "

Thankfully, after hearing the results of that particular experiment, Mr. Schue vetoes Rachel's idea.

Unfortunately, what that means is that the Warblers and New Directions spend the next two practices arguing over song selections.

On a whole, the Warblers are accustomed to performing Top 40 songs in eight part harmonies and one (male) lead soloist (read: Blaine); they are also used to having their set list prepared two months in advance of the actual competition.

New Directions (accustomed to being sabotaged by Coach Sylvester) are used to throwing together numbers right before the actual competition. Most of their numbers are either Broadway classics or old rock songs; genres that the Warblers don't quite know how to do, acapella.

It makes song selections immensely difficult.

"I think we should do Rick Astley's 'Never Gonna Give You Up' -" Artie comments, during a brief lull between squabbling.

Almost immediately, Mercedes, Finn, Nick, and Jeff crack up (and Kurt thinks that even Blaine is trying to hide a smile) but his suggestion fails to impress Mr. Schue, Wes, and Rachel (Rachel: _"Artie, we are_ not _Rick-rolling a show choir competition!"_ ).

"I bet Vocal Adrenaline is doing something incredible right now," Thad mutters into David's shoulder. "They are probably gearing up for Nationals, right now, as we argue over whether Bon Jovi is a feasible choice for Regionals."

"Oh, shut up," Lauren Zizes snorts.

Amazingly enough, Thad doesn't say another word for the rest of practice.

\--

 

"Don't shank her, she's just trying to help," Mercedes hisses in his right ear. "We need her voice for Regionals." From the row behind, he can hear Tina sucking in a breath before reaching over and squeezing his shoulder in a comforting manner.

Or maybe she's restraining him from tackling Rachel to the ground - that's also possible.

In front of the entire glee club, Rachel Berry is extolling the virtues of the Broadway musical _bare_ and how powerful, uplifting, and beautiful the music selection was.

"And," Rachel proclaims, loudly. "I think that the titular due - Noah, stop laughing, you are being incredibly immature - between the characters Peter and Jason would be a great song to perform at Regionals." She beams. "I nominate Kurt and Blaine for their respective parts."

"Seconded," Jeff calls out brightly, raising a hand.

Kurt knows Rachel honestly means well (this was probably her way of thanking him for their talk at Lima Bean) but dear lord does she just fail at subtlety.

Kurt decides that he officially hates his life when Blaine gamely bounces out of his seat, pulls him along to the front of the room, and Rachel practically throws the sheet music at the two of them.

"I'm singing for Jason?" Blaine says, not quite asking, but looking back and forth between the lyrics in front of him and at Kurt. He only has time to nod, before Blaine smiles and sings the first verse," _[Do you remember the day that you met me?](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8jHOHbVFE-w) I swear it was yesterday; I knew with a glance._ "

It's strange and oddly intimate, singing with and _to_ Blaine in front of everyone. It's not Blaine pretend-serenading him in the senior commons, it's not the two of them in a study room singing "Baby It's Cold Outside" after hours, it's them in front of Mr. Schue and all their friends.

Kurt is suddenly overwhelming aware that this is his first duet with a boy. And not only that, but thanks to the meddling of one Rachel Barbra Berry - it's with the boy he's totally in love with (who doesn't return said feelings).

It's a miracle that he doesn't end up stuttering over the line about Blaine - or rather Jason - kissing him; " _And time seemed to freeze_."

The lyrics are unfamiliar enough that they couldn't even try to improvise choreography. Instead, it's probably what Kurt imagined Broadway read-throughs were like - the two of them standing in front of each other by the piano, looking up occasionally from the sheet music.

" _God, I love you,_ " Kurt sings, wishing the words weren't hitting so close to home. He determinedly keeps his eyes on the music and wills himself not to look at Blaine.

" _From the start_ ," Blaine's voice joins his at the end.

There's a brief moment after the music stops and before the applause start, when Kurt accidentally meets Blaine's dark eyes and it's hard to figure out what Blaine's thinking; but there's an undercurrent of _something_ , before Blaine's expression shifts. Then all of the sudden, Blaine grins at him, closing the distance between the two of them to bump his shoulder against Kurt's and telling him that they sounded good together - they always sound good together.

"Hold up," Santana calls from the back row. She holds up her Blackberry, which was opened up to the show's Wikipedia page. "Is this the song they sing right before Tweedle Gay Jock dies from a drug overdose?"

Before Rachel could answer, Mr. Schue shakes his head: "Wonderful song choice, Rachel. Kurt, Blaine, you two did a great job but I don't think this is the right song. Frankly, I don't think the judges will go for it."

"I don't think it's even possible to make that song into a group number," Finn muses out loud. "I guess it's possible. But wouldn't it be kind of hard? I mean, it's still better than Blaine's suggestion - no offense dude - "

"'I Touch Myself' by The Divinyls is a classic," Blaine tries again, dead earnest, causing Kurt to be embarrassed for him, because really. Blaine and his inappropriate song choices. "Really, think of all the great potential harmonies."

"Dude, have you ever looked at the lyrics?" Puck wants to know.

Blaine blinks. "I don't understand."

"Well," Rachel says cheerily, looking not at all disappointed that her idea got shut down. "I guess we'll just have to come up with a different number then."

\--

 

In the end, they reach a compromise by deciding on a Beatles medley for their big group number. ("Everyone likes the Beatles," Artie points out, "There's no way we could lose.")

New Directions still had sheet music from "Hello, Goodbye" and for all his constant threats to change schools, Thad is a magician when it comes to arrangements; he manages to alter the Warblers' old arrangement of "Silly Love Songs" to work, which means that both New Directions and the Warblers only have to learn two new songs for the number opposed to three - and with their tight schedule, every little bit helped.

They eventually decide on "I Will" as the transition song between "Hello, Goodbye and "Silly Love Songs". Namely because it's a relatively simple song, but also because -

"I think Kurt and Blaine should get the leads and sing it as a duet," Rachel says, beaming excitedly from the front row, once the song was decided by a vote.

"Seconded!" Jeff calls out, grinning widely.

Kurt regrets giving the blond a makeover out of spite.

From that point forward, deciding on the second number - Pink's "Raise Your Glass" - only felt right. Catchy, upbeat, and the lyrics are frighteningly relevant to their experiences at McKinley. The song's also fun enough that it would hopefully distract the judges from the collective Warblers' (and Finn's) complete lack of coordination in the dancing department.

\--

 

In retrospect, once they actually started choreographing for the actual numbers, Kurt supposes they had been overly optimistic about the last part.

(At least this time, they started with the choreography a week and a half before actual competition. It's a new record for them.)

For the last fifteen minutes, he could tell Mike had been trying to find a nice way to tell Blaine that there wouldn't be furniture for him to jump on when they're performing on stage at Regionals.

Finally, Brittany just turns to him and says, rather bluntly, "You kind of dance like you're in _Happy Feet_ " before going off to help Nick with his footwork.

It's not that Nick or any of the Warblers were _bad_ dancers - they just tend to forget all the steps when a girl is within two feet of them.

... It's actually kind of a problem.

"I can totally give you some pointers," Mike hurriedly says to Blaine, looking completely sincere. "Really. Even Finn has gotten better. He used to be really bad."

"Mike's a great teacher," Kurt confirms, when Blaine turns to him, looking sweaty and bewildered that his bopping around and occasional spinning isn't working. "And it's not like you or anyone from Dalton is _bad_ \- " he crosses his fingers behind his back - " - But you have to admit, we do a lot more active choreography in this group. We won't be shuffling around on risers."

"Right," Blaine replies, looking uncharacteristically flustered. "I'm - just going to go refill my water bottle. I'll be right back."

"Kurt, you can get Blaine up to speed with the moves from 'Raise Your Glass' when he gets back, right?" Mike asks. At Kurt's nod, he heaves a sigh of relief. "Thank god for David - he's a natural for picking up the choreography. Britt and I can probably figure something out with the rest of the guys - maybe if the girls get passed off between them in the numbers, they could do easy lifts. It'll look impressive on stage. They can sway in the background in the mean time." Mike's eyebrows etch together as he observes Trent accidentally colliding with Alex, when it becomes his turn to do a simple two-step with Mercedes. "Of course, that would involve the guys _not_ flinching whenever they come in contact with a girl."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"Thanks. I have to ask, is that a comfortable position?" Mike asks, staring down at him. "That looks like it hurts."

"Coach Sylvester has made me do this so many times, I think I've officially lost all nerve endings in my thighs," Kurt reveals, from his front full split before leaning forward to stretch his back. "Now, I find this to be strangely relaxing. Everyone from my yoga class is jealous."

"Huh." Mike tilts his head. "Maybe we can incorporate that into the number. Some free-style. I wonder what's taking Blaine so long."

Kurt pulls himself into a sitting position with his legs out in front of him, outstretched. He reaches for his toes before attempting to pull it up behind his shoulder, feeling the stretch. "He's probably having a crisis of confidence. I think he might have overheard Rachel's comment earlier."

Rachel had told Kurt in a poor attempt of a whisper (she's too accustomed to projecting her voice), that whenever Blaine pulled one of his exaggerated facial expressions she half-expected that to be a cue for small forest animal friends to pop up from nowhere to accompany him on stage. Really, Blaine's dance moves could be tolerable if you get over his odd, unfortunate habit of jumping onto random pieces of furniture.

A few minutes later, Blaine reappears with an empty water bottle, still looking slightly flushed. "Ready when you are."

Sucking in a breath and pulling himself together, Kurt ushers Blaine down stage where there's more room for them work. Then he and corrects Blaine's form. "Okay, in this song, we start singing from our positions on the stage..."

\--

 

At least they're not doing the 'starting singing from behind the audience' thing again; Kurt had it on good authority (Coach Sylvester) that Aural Intensity had been tipped off about New Directions' signature and had barricaded the back doors.

Rachel and Finn are doing well with their duet, judging by the response from the audiences.

"Hey," Blaine's voice says from behind him; Kurt feels the warm, comfortable weight of Blaine's hand on his shoulder. "Kurt - are you _nervous_?"

"This is completely different from Nationals," Kurt confesses, babbling. He can feel his heart hammering in his chest. "It's not like anyone other than Coach Sylvester would have noticed if I messed up a line of my Celine Dion medley. _It was in French!_ And that was a cheerleading competition. They probably would have been more critical about whether or not my elbow was bent in the correct forty-five degree angle."

"Kurt," Blaine repeats, sounding amused - which is easy for him, because he's _used_ to being the front man for the Warblers, he's used to all the solos. "You look like you're five seconds away from a panic attack, seriously." Blaine side-steps around him, but his grip on Kurt's shoulder is still firm. "You're going to be fine. In fact, you'll be amazing."

Kurt swallows, then looks Blaine in the eye: "Our practices haven't been quite right. We've been practicing this song for a week and it still feels wrong."

Blaine softens. "That's not true - "

"No, you don't understand!" Kurt exclaims, suddenly furious, because Blaine and the Warblers - they don't, not really. They hadn't been there last year, when New Directions lost and even _Santana Lopez_ had been upset that glee club was over. "This is actually bigger than just you and me. New Directions _needs_ to make it to Regionals. We don't have a second chance; our club will get disbanded if we don't make it. And if we lose because we don't have chemistry - "

"Kurt, that's not - "

"If you don't like me back, I can deal with it. But for just one song -" Kurt takes a deep breath, "Just _one_ song, for three minutes, please forget your entirely platonic feelings for me and just _pretend_ \- "

He hadn't even been aware that Blaine's free hand had been curling around the nape of his neck; he has a split second to realize what's about to happen before Blaine tilts his head downward and kisses him; very carefully, insanely chaste and utterly fantastic.

Kurt's brain has only got with the program before Blaine pulls away, looking sheepish and nervous.

"Finn told me that you guys work best when you're loose," Blaine murmurs, voice husky. "And I've wanted to do that since Rachel made us sing that duet in the choir room and I realized - "

He looks like he's about to say something else when the familiar beginning notes of "I Will" swells - his cue.

A flash of annoyance flickers across Blaine's features at being interrupted: he hesitates for a moment, before quickly kissing Kurt again - this time, it's a little less careful, a lot less chaste, and even more fantastic.

Blaine then adds in a rush - " _That I've loved you, and I loved you from the start_ ", echoing Jason's lines (which Kurt could not help but note half- fondly and half-exasperatedly, are probably completely inappropriate from the context of the original scene because Jason ends up dying of a drug overdose but he appreciates the sentiment) before stepping into the spotlight and joining the rest of New Directions on stage, looking composed and polished as ever, singing the first verse: _"Who knows how long I've loved you; you know I love you still"_.

Kurt waits patiently in the wings for the build-up to the chorus for his turn to step into the bright lights and sing his solo, and for the first time, not he's afraid to mean every word of it.

\--

 

They win Regionals.

Aural Intensity never even stood a chance.


End file.
